


The Fencing Incident

by Webhoard



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bravado, Drinking, F/M, Fencing, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Minor Injuries, Romance, Swearing, drunken bets, general doofiness, saber fencing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-12 13:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11162718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webhoard/pseuds/Webhoard
Summary: Jim drunkenly agrees to a fencing duel with Sulu, and you have one week to teach him the basics. It does not go well. From the prompt: “You are gushing blood, James! You need to go to the hospital [medbay], not just duct tape the wound!"





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I had originally planned for this to be a Reader x Leonard McCoy fic for Tumblr Trek Fest (tumblr hashtag: trek fest 2017), but it kind of got out of hand because I really like writing Jim apparently, I really like fencing, and I used fence saber in my younger days. I am also not known for brevity. So I split it into 2 parts. This is the first part, and it’s all about Jim being a lovable dum dum, and a little bit of TOS (a little AOS) Sulu’s love of fencing.
> 
> Fencing Terms:  
> Parry: to block an attack  
> Flunge: I am not making this up. It’s a cross between a fleche (a running attack usually only for Epee and Foil) and a lunge.  
> Riposte: an attack immediately following a parry
> 
> You can Google anything else, but I tried to avoid jargon as much as possible.

It had all started with a drunken bet.

Jim had overheard you and Hikaru, your closest friend on the Enterprise, drunkenly discussing the Terran Saber Fencing Team for the upcoming Federation Olympics. Both you and Hikaru were avid fencers and often sparred with one another in your spare time. While you both typically kept it sportsmanlike, it was not uncommon that one or both of you would slip into ‘Musketeer mode,’ leaping from gym equipment and performing other such foolish stunts. Immature? Yes. But fun? Also yes. And more often than not, these sparring sessions turned into late night drinking sessions in the officer’s lounge where you two became more belligerent in your ever so slightly differing opinions about parries, famous fencers, and other such nuances. Most of the time, the other officers in the lounge gave you two plenty of space, not wanting to become involved in the discussions at all. That was until Jim came over and decided he needed to crack wise about what he called an ‘antiquated sport.’

“You cannot tell me, sir, that fencing doesn’t have its uses!” Hikaru exclaimed, his loud volume coming more from the beer than from genuine anger.

“He’s got a point, Jim,” you refused to call him ‘sir’ off the clock. “I mean, Hikaru did kind of kick ass with his saber on the Romulan drill.”

“That’s not the point, besides you weren’t even there!” Jim stated with irritation, “All I’m saying is that in a fight, a saber doesn’t stand a chance against a phaser, so what’s the point?”

“Because, sir, you may not always have access to a phaser.” Hikaru stated flatly.

“But you would have access to a  _saber_  instead?” Jim was thoroughly unconvinced.

_Oh, how the beer talks_ , you thought to yourself. You sat watching the escalating bravado with a certain sense of amusement. Sure, Jim was a hell of a fighter, but fist fighting and fencing were two completely different beasts. As a lead security officer, you had experience in several martial arts styles in addition to your phaser training; your fencing experience was more a product of your eccentric parents than any Starfleet training. Jim, on the other hand, had learned how to fight in rowdy bar brawls and the small boxing gym in his hometown. Fencing was all about style, finesse, and form. Jim was all about ‘just keep hittin’ ‘em.’

“Errol Flynn’s form is flawless! With all due respect, you have no idea how much training skills like that require!” Hikaru’s exclamation drew you out of your reverie.

“You know he was just acting, right? Besides, I mean, how hard can it be?! You just stab them with the pointy end!”

“Be that as it may,  _sir_ , and it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Hikaru responded with a bit of saltiness, “In a saber versus saber fight, you wouldn’t stand a chance against Flynn,” he was beginning to look a bit smug, “or me, for that matter.”

“Is that a challenge, Sulu?”

“Sure, why not? Maybe you and I should have a little competition.”

“Alright, alright,” you said as you finally intervened. “How about we have an unofficial duel between the pair of you. Jim, Hikaru,” You slurred out, “next Thursday at the end of alpha shift, you two will meet in Training Room, uhh, 2 for this duel. Best two outta three. What do you say?”

Despite their ire, they both nodded and shook on it. You then changed the subject to something a bit lighter: the Terran Boxing Team. The peace that a new topic brought was, sadly, short-lived.

* * *

The following morning, Jim woke up to the sound of an alarm shattering his skull, or at least that’s how it felt. Memories of the night before—the argument, the challenge, and the handshake—flooded back into his foggy mind, causing the soft drumming in his head to amplify to a pounding cacophony of pain. Through the hangover headache, two thoughts crystallized. He had never fenced before in his life, and Sulu was going to kick his ass. What the hell did he just agree to?

Later that day, after a shameful visit to McCoy in the medbay for painkillers, Jim wandered down to your security station on the engineering deck.

“Hey, Y/N,” he started, voice a little higher than usual, “So, uh, last night got a bit out of hand, huh?”

You looked up at him through a similar haze of grogginess and head pain, “Yeah, you know Hikaru is going to straight up destroy you, right?” Your statement coming out a bit more aggressively than you’d intended.

Jim winced at that, “Yeah, so, about that…” He hesitated; then swallowing his pride, he got onto one knee.

“Are you proposing to me, Jim? I’m sorry; I just don’t think I feel that way about you.”

“Cut the shit, Y/N,” he grumbled, “You have got to help me. Please teach me some moves or something so that when Sulu ‘straight up destroys me,’ I won’t make a complete ass of myself.”

“Just a partial ass?” You couldn’t keep the smile from your face because you apparently had him over a barrel.  _That’s it, let the power go to your head, just a little bit._  “Jim− Captain, I will help you−”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jim said as he jumped back to his feet, relief washing over his face, “Thank you thank you; you’re the best”

“Ah ah ah, you didn’t let me finish, Captain,” You enunciated the ‘captain’ slowly and deliberately, “I will help you, if you help me.” You paused for emphasis. “Give me Halloween and the day after off. I plan on having a lot of fun on Halloween.”

“What? That’s months from now.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m a planner.” You replied, cocking your eyebrow with a smug smile. “You need me, Jim. Do we have a deal?”

Grimacing, Jim looked up at you with an expression that showed he was torn between being a good captain who followed the basic ethical guidelines and taking what was essentially a bribe to save his pride. You kept smiling but didn’t break your gaze.

“Fine.” He said finally, closing his eyes in resignation, “I will give you Halloween and November 1st off. Have fun drinking and carousing; I’ve only got a starship to run.”  _Yes!_

“And a fencing duel next week.” You sagely reminded him. Shifting gears, you cut the sarcasm and added, “You know, you don’t need to take it so seriously, right? This duel is all in good fun. Hikaru’s just messing with you.”

“I know, I know. I’m just not keen on getting my ass beaten. Well, I’d better get back to the bridge.”

“Don’t worry; the protective gear is actually quite sturdy,” You chuckled as he retreated, unaware of how inaccurate that statement would prove to be.

* * *

You and Jim spent the next few days practicing in the evenings. You had set up a makeshift fencing strip in one of the lesser-used exercise rooms. It was slow going at first: practicing footwork, the standard positions, and basic parries and attacks. You felt that you were helping to give him a good foundation to start out with. You could still hear Sr. Sanchez, your fencing instructor from your teenage years, ‘Y/N, without a foundation you are nothing. You can fight 90% of the match without lifting your foil. Now show me your damn footwork!’

“Y/N,” Jim whined as he let his foil drop on the floor, “We’ve been at this for three days. When are you actually going to let me spar?”

“Well, Jim, as my old instructor used to say−”

“If you tell me what Sr. Sanchez said one more time, I am going to go fight Sulu right now and just get it over with.”

“Geez, fine. Keep your pants on.” You said, wincing slightly, irritation tingeing your voice, “Go put on your damn jacket, your damn breastplate, and your damn helmet, and we’ll spar.”

After you both suited up, you and he took the basic  _en garde_  position and were getting ready to initiate Jim’s first match when in sauntered none other than Hikaru. He was biting into a peach and looking like the cat that got the cream. If it hadn’t been for your helmet, you would have buried your forehead in your palms.  _Say it ain’t so. Jim’s gonna lose it_ , you grumbled internally but ultimately resolved that the match would still go on.

“Ok, Jim? You good? Begin!”

You hung back, waiting for Jim to make the first move. He lunged forward at you, and you easily parried. “Footwork, Jim,” you chided, earning an audible huff.

He then feinted a low hit before attempting a slash across your sword arm, which you again parried, knocking him off balance a bit. Flustered, he took a few steps backwards, putting some space between you two. His steps were not in form.

“Remember your form and footwork, Jim. Keep a low center of gravity and keep your steps smaller so that you don’t go off balance.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim barked out from under his mask. You could tell he was flustered at being parried so easily, and doubly so because Hikaru was off to the side…watching.

“C’mon, Captain,” Hikaru called out in genuine support, “You got this.”

Rather than giving Jim the confidence he needed, it further served to irritate his already slightly injured pride. Those factors combined were what ultimately what led to ‘the incident.’

Eschewing form, Jim followed his instincts: just keep hittin’ ‘em. He took what could only be described as a bastardization of a flunge, exploding forward and attempting to lunge into an attack. In some ways, his bold attack worked, in that it caught you off guard and made you lose your focus. However, this loss of focus also sent you into a fight-or-flight response. You instinctively went with fight. You parried and followed up with a brutal riposte, knocking Jim clean off his feet and into the gym equipment near your fencing strip.

There was blood almost immediately. While his head and upper body had been protected by the fencing gear, he was only wearing a pair of gym shorts, leaving his right leg exposed to the sharp edge of the weight rack. That combined with his whole body weight falling on the jagged edge produced a uniquely deep cut.

Hikaru practically ran over to him. “Jim− uhhh, that’s a lot of blood−” He was staring at the gash in Jim’s calf, apparently unsure of what to do.

“Ok, Jim,” You said, kneeling next to him as your training kicked into action. Grabbing a clean gym towel, you applied pressure to the wound, “We need to get you to the medbay. Now.” You tried to silence that nagging voice in your head that had a running mantra of  _Oh shit, I’ve killed the captain of the Enterprise, the man who’s save the world. Twice._

Jim was clearly in pain, but that did nothing to negate his stubbornness or his dislike of medical care. “I’m ok. It’s just a cut. Nothing a bandage can’t fix. I’ve got some in my bathroom.”

“Are you out of your mind?!” You practically yelled at him, face going a bit red.  **“You are gushing blood, James! You need to go to the medbay, not just duct tape the wound!”**

At hearing his full name, something not often used by you, he sputtered a few times about it ‘being completely unnecessary’ before allowing you and Hikaru to pick him up by the shoulders and lead him to the medbay.

The panicked mantra in your brain did not abate. What would Dr. McCoy say?


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you bring Jim into the medbay with an injury from a fencing tutorial gone wrong, you finally get to know his handsome doctor friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 2 and actually has McCoy in it. I really don’t understand protoplasers, and neither, would it seem, does the internet; I did my best. I’ve tried to keep the reader gender neutral; if you disagree, I will gladly listen to and absorb feedback.

For the most part, you had managed to stay away from the medbay during your tenure on the Enterprise, not because you were phobic of hypos like Jim, but because you just didn’t have much occasion to, other than your yearly physicals. Whereas Jim was the kind of person to whom accidents always happened, you were the kind for whom accidents were almost always avoided.

The smell of antiseptic washed over you as you and Hikaru led Jim into the medbay, alerting a nurse. He immediately took Jim from you two and led him to one of the bio beds, quickly beginning to work on the still bleeding gash.

Hikaru looked at you uncomfortably, “Do you think you’ll be reprimanded for this? I mean injuring the captain…” He trailed off at seeing your face. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth gaped as if to say ‘you’ve got to be freaking kidding me right now.’

“I mean, you probably won’t,” he quickly followed up. “You were just trying to help teach him and all.”

“Yeah, to help him prepare for a duel, with you!” You whispered loudly, not wanting to completely disturb the peace of the quiet medbay.

Hikaru just raised his hands in surrender, “Ok, ok. We’ll both blame it on him then, right?” He smiled wryly.

Catching his drift, you smiled in return, but the smile was short-lived.

“What the hell have you done with our captain, Sulu? Y/LN?” Dr. McCoy called out, his voice communicating more anger than was true.

“Uhh…” You let the sound linger for few seconds before Hikaru stepped in with coherent words.

“Y/N and I were teaching Jim how to fence, and he fell into one of the weight racks in the exercise room.” He was only stretching the truth a little bit.

McCoy smirked at that, but his brows remained furrowed, “Damn fools, the lot of ya.” He then went over to examine a very reluctant Jim.

Hikaru, realizing the time, had to leave for a shift he was subbing for on the bridge. “Hey, I’ve got to get to the bridge. Can you handle this here?”

“Oh yeah,” you said with no confidence whatsoever, “I’ve totally got this.”

Hikaru smiled and shook his head at your sarcasm. “Good luck!”

“Yeah, thanks for that!” You called to him as he beat a retreat.

Your gaze returned to the matter at hand. Dr. McCoy was using a protoplaser to stem the bleeding and begin mending the wound while berating Jim for his ‘damn foolish antics,’ and Jim was huffing incredulously and making a bit of a fuss. You smiled at the scene: the doctor mending his dearest friend, using feigned irritation to cover up his concern.

While you and Jim had struck up a good enough friendship, you’d never gotten to know his attractive doctor friend all that well. Whether by happenstance or design, you’d never once exchanged more than a few words with the man. Whenever you went to the bars and clubs on shore leave, you tended to stick with your friends from security or with Hikaru and whomever he was with. You and McCoy would end up only seeing each other in passing, usually with Jim as a buffer. Now that you saw McCoy out in normal lighting and without the din of loud music and voices, you couldn’t help but notice that he was more than simply Jim’s handsome doctor friend, he was…The way his nose curves up a little near the tip and his expressive eyes. Damn, that hairline. And those lips…

“Earth to Y/N,” called Jim, “Hellooo?”

You snapped back to reality. God, you need to stop spacing out like that, you chided internally.

Jim just sat there as the protoplaser slowly began to form scar tissue, smirking knowingly. Luckily—or was it unluckily—only Jim seemed to have noticed you staring because Dr. McCoy was still keenly focused Jim’s leg.

“Alright, Jim. That’ll do for now.” Dr. McCoy said, with that ever-present frown on his forehead. “I’ll need you back in here tomorrow for another treatment. Tomorrow. Do you hear me, Jim?”

“Yeah, yeah, Bones. Tomorrow. I’ll be here.” Jim huffed at the doctor’s accusatory tone.

“Good, now, don’t you have a starship to run or something?”

You smiled at the remark and turned around to leave with Jim before Dr. McCoy’s voice stopped you.

“Not so fast, Y/LN. You’re next.”

“Sir?” You asked.

You looked over at Jim who shrugged his shoulders and continued out of the medbay. “Welcome to my world,” he said with a slight smirk as he passed you and added in a low mutter, “Enjoy the view.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to McCoy. “Dr. McCoy? I’m not sure I understand. It was just Jim who got injured.”

“That’s where you’re wrong darlin’” he said pointing to your wrist, which had a small cut on it. You must have cut yourself while helping Jim up and not noticed because of the adrenaline and your internal panic.

“Oh,” you said as you examined the small cut. “This is nothing, sir. Just a nick.”

“Yeah? And that gym equipment is filthy. You wanna end up with an infection? It only takes a small nick.” He responded with his requisite gruffness. “Now come sit down and enough with ‘sirs.’” His lips twitched upward ever so slightly.

You dumbly walked over and plopped down on the bio bed. Let the man do his work, Y/N, and as Jim said, enjoy the view. You sat there, stealing glances at the handsome doctor as he began to disinfect the cut, utterly incapable of knowing what to say. It was not often that you couldn’t summon even mundane chit-chat, but this was beginning to look like one of those moments.

Finally, McCoy broke the silence, “Honestly, I’m surprised that you and Sulu haven’t been in here with injuries before, the way you two run around like the ‘two’ musketeers.”

Busted. “Heh, don’t know what you’re talking about, sir…” you said, dodging the comment with a mild feeling of embarrassment.

He raised his eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, c’mon. I’ve seen you two, impersonating Gene Kelley and the like. And what did I say about calling me ‘sir’?”

You blushed a bit. Way to make an impression on the man, Y/N. Way. To. Go. But hey, he’s got good taste in films, apparently. Shaking your head to silence your internal monologue, you decided to change the subject from your fencing role play to something that might produce better results. “If ‘sir’ isn’t option, what do I call you?” you asked, raising your eyebrow slightly suggestively.

“Well, most people call me Dr. McCoy or Doc…” DUH, Y/N, you dummy. What did you expect him to say? Dr. Dreamy Eyes?! “…but you can call me Leonard if you want,” he finished looking at you with ever so slight a smile. Oh? Well…

“You alright? You look a bit dazed. Are you feeling dizzy?” McCoy, no, Leonard was looking at you with a slightly puzzled expression as he pulled out his tricorder.

“What? No. I do that a lot, just sort of…cogitate on things.” Cogitate? Really? Not only did Leonard know that you and Sulu regularly ran around D’Artagnan style, but now you were spacing out and using words like ‘cogitate’ while pathetically trying to flirt.

He chuckled softly as he put his tricorder down and looked you in the eyes. “I’ve noticed you do that sometimes,” he hesitated after saying that and then began to busy himself with adjusting the protoplaser settings. He’s noticed me? Interesting.

“Hmm,” was all you could come up with in response to that. “You don’t have to call me Y/LN. You can call me Y/FN.”

“Well alright, Y/N.” And with that, he put the protoplaser down, having finished with your wrist.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“As you said, just a nick.”

Damn, here you were having your first real conversation with him, which was starting to maybe head in a good direction, and it was over already.

He looked back over to you, “You shouldn’t need a follow up, but if it bothers you at all, don’t hesitate to come by. Just don’t become a regular like Jim; you’ve got a surprisingly good track record for a security officer on the Enterprise, and I’d hate to jinx that.”

Getting bolder, you responded without much forethought, “Well, I guess I’m gonna have to find some other excuse to come down here and see you.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you could have died on the spot.

However, to your surprise, Leonard smiled in return. Looking at you with a flirtatious gleam in his eyes, he said, “That, or you could just have a drink with me.”

Well, well, well. It would seem he’s got a thing for socially awkward fencers. Win/win. You tried your best to sound suave as you replied, “Your place or mine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Part two is finished and queued up for Tumblr Trek Fest next week (June 15th).


End file.
